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DG May 10
Your eyes are a vessel.
People are allowed to tell you
what to see and place in it.

Your eyes are a vessel.
To contain your pathetic tears.
Shut up and keep them in.

God forbid that vessel breaks
and unforgivable tears
Flow out your mouth.
Star BG Apr 26
My vessel imbedded drifts,
on swirling waves of verse
woven in tapestry of ocean.
Fish colorful enhance eyes for inspiration
Sails flap tickling ears
to loosen poetic thoughts gently.
My compass of heart leads.
Moments dissipate gracefully.
The day is beautiful with warm sun,
as I'm carried on uncharted sea of phases.

And as Captains log opens on return to shore,
I sit, in writing position before sea food dinner
The place where poems meet book.
Richard Barnes Thank you for inspiring me.
Badshah Khan Feb 9
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 39

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

The faqeer (Holy Wanderer) won’t search for any eternal love.

The eternal love itself eagerly begs for him,

To be uniquely his loved once.

He naturally becomes a Faqeer (Holy wanderer) means;

He scatters himself as a void vessel,

To be naturally filled with divine wisdom and love!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
mjad Feb 1
This is a soul that cares more about itself than the expectations for the vessel that hosts it
do __ understand ?
I feel her,
Pulling me away.
I have no conscience,
For I am the wave
And she is the wind.
Crashing and swaying,
Though a treacherous journey.
Imprisoned by her thoughts,
I'm left in agony.
My sanity is brittled,
With chained emotions.
Follow me,
In this never ending journey.
William Allen Jan 10
The low wind howled
against the creaking
moaning of ships.

Dark clouds blotted out
all hopeful rays of the sun.

Small drops of water blotted
chestnut colored planks

Fraying aged ropes wet with sea mist
tug and pull taught
as vessels heave up and down.

Sails shake tirelessly
in the careless throws
of the wind.

Her words, like sweet drops of wine,
fall softly from her saddened lips.

"Must you go?
Must you brave the angered seas?
Must you set out once more,
this final time?"

Though sweet was her voice,
her words filled with grief
held a gravity to them.
He did not wish to leave.

Seeing her tear stricken face
He softly ran his fingers
through her heavy auburn hair.

A final embrace
and a solemn goodbye
The Mariner kissed his wife.
This is part III of a ten-part story titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss"
William Allen Jan 10
The sweet solemn melody
swam through the dim-lit room.

His eyes pressed shut
swaying to and fro
in the rhythm of her hearts song.

The fire in the belly of the mantle
cracked and popped
its own lovestruck melody
warmly roaring.

The Maidens song spills
from finger & bow
dancing on air & swimming
in ears.

She watches as the final note
is pulled through the string
singing with its last dying breath

The Maidens song spills
from finger & bow
dancing on air & swimming
in ears.
This is part II of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss"

Please enjoy.
William Allen Jan 10
Black sands awashed
by crystal waters
slate gray cliffs
adorn the countryside

Perched atop the highest bluff
our home ignites the way
for the lost
the weary.

I, The Mariner, know all too well
the change brought forth
by the ebb & flow
of the tide.

I've braved the seas
watched men die.
I've seen the beauty
starlight skies.

Beholden to none
other than my vessel and bride
I yearn to sail one last time
beneath the starlight skies.
This is part one of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss."
I gained inspiration for writing this series when I was in Galway, Ireland by the Spanish Arch in Galway city. I journeyed there to be the best man in my best friends wedding and we took a stroll through the city and happened upon this great stone monument. As soon as I laid eyes on it my brain started reeling with ideas about a story between a mariner and a maiden. What you will be reading here will be that story. Please enjoy.

This story is dedicated to all mariners lost at sea.
Amoy Feb 2018
Is self  the vessel that holds our souls?
or is  the soul our true self?
should we look to our outer appearance  and the world to define ourselves,
do we search for the love of self through what people see and say about us?
someone once said "self cant help self"  what did he mean?
if self cant help self then who can?.. after all.. our self is the only
true companion we have in this world. here is one thing I've have learn.
when  we love our self for who we truly are inside,we defines our essences  and it is our essence that define us.
Ivan Brooks Sr Nov 2018
God gave me a gift
And I'll use it to uplift,
To inspire and motivate
To impact and create.
Maybe I'm a vessel
Maybe I'm an axil
Through whose works
Quotations, Poetry or books,
Generations will be awakened
And subsequently emboldened.
To rise up and make changes
And produce juices like oranges
And shine like lights on a dark street.
Oh how sweet it tis, oh how sweet
To know that I have a part to play,
To know I can tell a kid to not sway
That no matter what really happens,
Hope is a parachute that opens
For those who take a leap of faith.
No matter what you have to deal with,
There's a God somewhere who cares,
So never give in to your fears.

© IB-Poetry
Out of thin sir,, out of nowhere, comes a strange and unusual kinda work.
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